


willing to wait for it

by oh_ms_omegalomaniac



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Afterlife, Canon Era, F/M, M/M, based on that tumblr post, basically telling of how they all meet in the afterlife, but like a super quiet version, character are those from the musical, full of bad song references, idk - Freeform, not really in chronological order oops, not the Not Good people from actual history, so everyone is pretty much already dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 17:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_ms_omegalomaniac/pseuds/oh_ms_omegalomaniac
Summary: John Laurens is the first, and there is no one to greet him. Eliza Schuyler is last, and she feels peace.





	

John Laurens is the first, and there is no one to greet him.

 

He yells when he wakes, pulse fast and eyes wide open in fear. The red coats are coming, still coming, in droves that never seem to stop and his comrades are yelling and fighting and dying and he has to get back on his feet-

 

But now the world around him is quiet.

 

Oh so quiet.

 

The world is at twilight, or perhaps dawn. It’s quiet and a smoky gray colour, with no horizon in sight. There’s no trees or buildings or people, just a soft floor with no distinct colour. It dawns on him slowly, as his gaze travels downwards to see a dark red spreading over his dirty white shirt.

 

He’s dead, isn’t he.

 

There are no angels, no pearly gates, nothing close to what one could call heaven. He never believed in God much anyway, so that’s okay.

 

Laurens stands, pulling himself up off the ground. He looks around and he breathes. He’s dead, and he can’t do anything about it. His battalion, his family, his Alexander- he can’t do anything to help them now.

 

So he sits, and he waits.

 

\--

 

Phillip Hamilton is next, and he is afraid until he sees John Laurens.

 

He’s never hurt a soul in his life, so even without his father’s advice he would have thrown away his shot. When he aimed his gun at the sky, he barely considered the possibility that Eacker would do anything different.

 

But the scoundrel did, and now he’s lying on the ground, holding his stomach and staring up at a young man who looks vaguely familiar. This man has freckles to rival Phillip’s, and the fear poisoning his breath dissipates fast as he manages a smile.

 

The man smiles back at him and offers Phillip a hand. The young Hamilton takes it, nodding his thanks and taking a moment to compose himself before meeting the other’s eyes.

 

“Am I dead?”

 

Wincing a little, the man nods wordlessly, and Phillip returns the nod after a beat of silence.

 

“Okay. I’m Phillip, Phillip Hamilton.”

 

The man’s eyes widen in shock, and then joy. Pure, shameless excitement, and suddenly Phillip recognizes the freckles and messy ponytail and young eyes. His father keeps a portrait of this man, tucked inside his desk under hundreds of letters from a Mr. John Laurens, and one from Henry Laurens.

 

“John Laurens. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

 

\--

 

Peggy Schuyler is third, and she is relieved.

 

Her breaths come easy once again and there is strength in her bones that her illness had previously taken from her. She knows in a second that she is dead, and that doesn’t trouble her.

 

“Margarita Schuyler!”

 

The shout comes from above her and the woman opens her eyes to see two freckled faces staring down at her. She recognizes both of them, and she can’t help the smile that comes to her face.

 

Her sister’s son and an old friend.

 

They beam at her, sadness colouring their eyes but lightness in their brows.

 

“I’d hoped it’d be a little longer before we saw you here, but it’s good to see you, Peg. Phillip’s talked about you a lot.”

 

“Damn right he has! I’m the best aunt ever, right Phil?”

 

Phillip grins, pulling her into a messy hug. Peggy buries her head in his shoulder for a moment and breathes in deeply. He died a month or two before she did, but she is thankful that her illness kept her from being lucid enough to accept that.

 

Her body is strong, now, and her breaths come easy. She will wait here.

 

\--

 

Alexander Hamilton is fourth, and he doesn’t open his eyes for a long time.

 

He can hear something, _someone_ , moving around him, and faint whispering, but he ignores it. He’s worked enough in his life, surely he can rest for just a moment before he forces his eyes open to see wherever the hell he is now.

 

He better not be in hell itself. Maybe he deserves it- Jefferson would surely argue that point, and perhaps so would Burr- although Alexander thinks he saw a tinge of regret in the other man’s eyes before his world went black and there was nothing but pain. But he doesn’t have to worry about any of that now. He’s on the other side.

 

“Pops?”

 

Hamilton’s eyes snap open and he bolts upright, jaw dropping as he responds to his son’s voice. His son! Phillip is standing over him, a smile stretching his beautiful face and oh, how Alexander missed him. There are two others standing behind his son, a woman and a freckle-faced man.

 

“Alex?”

 

“Alexander!”

 

Pulling himself off the ground, he runs to embrace them one by one. He’s crying by the end of it, overwhelmed by the sight of his beautiful, wonderful son who died too young, his sister in law who accepted him into her family without a second though and John Laurens. John Laurens, with him again.

 

Words cannot explain his joy, but even as he sits with the ones he loves, he thinks of his darling Betsey and waits for her.

 

\--

 

Angelica Schuyler comes, and she is angry.

 

She can’t leave the world now! Damn this illness, damn the darkness slowly creeping into her vision! Eliza _needs_ her, Hamilton’s memory needs her, goddammit, her children need her. She can’t die now, that’s not fair at all.

 

Her eyes blink open for a second but she slams them shut again, forcing herself to wake up in her sickbed. Angelica Schuyler doesn’t give up, this is ridiculous. She had only closed her eyes for a second, just to get her strength back for a moment-

 

“’Gelica?”

 

She opens her eyes to the sound of her childhood nickname. Her youngest sister kneels by her side, expression warm and tinged with sadness.

 

“Hey, Ange.”

 

“Peggy. Where am I?”

 

A rueful expression on her face, Peggy shrugs.

 

“We have no idea.”

 

“We?”

 

Her sister doesn’t respond so Angelica searches around, taking in the grey place she’s found herself in. Indistinct figures walk slowly towards her and as they get closer, she recognizes them.

 

So this is heaven. That’s okay, she thinks.

 

\--

 

Time passes in ways that the group cannot seem to understand. Alexander organizes things, as he is wont to do as others come. Somehow he knows the best people to greet those who appear, and over time their ranks grow, in a way seemingly not determined by chronology or order.

 

Theodosia the younger arrives before her mother and Phillip, closest to her age, is sent to her side. They hit it off- should Alexander even be surprised? Peggy and Angelica laugh at his protests and shush him as the two young ‘uns wander away from the group, and Alexander holds his tongue in favour for smiling fondly at the blush on his son’s face.

 

The older Theodosia arrives soon after, greeted by her daughter.

 

George and Martha Washington appear looking disorientated and confused, but Hamilton’s sheepish grin as he throws himself bodily into hugging both of them relaxes the pair.

 

James Madison grumbles when he first awakens to Alexander, but softens as he sees his wife lying next to him. Dolley Madison is far more agreeable than he husband and after some time of ignoring each other, Hamilton and Madison strike an uneasy truce strengthened by the friendship the Schuyler sisters begin with Dolley.

 

Thomas Jefferson’s arrival causes conflict for a short time- Hamilton must be bodily restrained by Angelica, as do Peggy and Laurens- they’ve been told stories of this dickhead, and there are _so ready_ to dropkick his ass into hell. But Hamilton calms, so they relax and somehow Hamilton and Jefferson begin a strangely affection but mostly argumentative friendship.

 

When Hercules Mulligan and the Marquis de Lafayette appear, they are greeted by Laurens and Hamilton singing of a world turned upside down and the story of a night long ago. Phillip is in awe of the men from the bedside stories his father used to tell, but gets over any hero-worship after he sees the two of them with his father acting like kids. It’s nice to see his father so removed from the stresses of his life, with no shadows under his eyes.

 

Maria Reynolds wakes up panicked, but Hamilton’s sheepish, apologetic greeting helps her breathe. He’s sorry, she’s sorry- although Hamilton’s role in his own destruction is far larger than hers. Dolley takes a shine to her and although she feels somewhat out of place with the large, dysfunctional family of sorts, she likes it there.

 

There are two others that they all wait for. It goes unspoken that then this will be over, that they’ll fade or move on or at least stop waiting, because it seems like all they do is wait. No one is afraid of what comes next once the last two arrive, that’s for sure.

 

\--

 

Aaron Burr is tired. He’s lived so long, made so many mistakes and lost so many people he loves. When he breathes his last, he goes with regret.

 

His eyes open slowly to two figures kneeling by his side and one standing above him. Hamilton offers him a hand, looming above him like some kind of saviour. Or maybe just a man with forgiveness in his eyes and a determined set to his mouth.

 

Theodosia junior and senior hug him tightly but Burr can’t take his eyes off the man he killed. Alexander holds his gaze steadily with a smile tugging at his mouth and a lightness in his brow Burr doesn’t recognise. This Alexander isn’t tired, isn’t overworked, isn’t fiddling with the trigger of his gun in worried anticipation.

 

This Alexander has forgiven him.

 

“Hamilton-“

 

“Please, Burr. It’s okay.”

 

Finally Burr can tear his eyes away from the younger man and turn his attention to his wife and daughter, who are now watching the pair with confusion and a hint of trepidation. He’s not sure what they expect- they both left him long before Alexander did- but surely they know what he’s done, what he is.

 

If Alexander can forgive him, surely they can too.

 

\--

 

Eliza Schuyler is last, and she feels peace.

 

Her life has been long and spent well, with herself planted firmly in the narrative. She missed her love every day since he had left her, but she stopped her tears and did her very best to continue her husband’s legacy.

 

Lying there with her eyes closed, Eliza asks herself if she has done enough.

 

She decides she has, and she opens her eyes to her sisters, her son, and her Alexander.

 

She feels contentment settle over her. She’s home.

 

\--

 

The wait is over. Their grey world begins to lighten and they move on, together at last.

 

At peace.

**Author's Note:**

> this became more of an abstract drabble then i intended, but i kind of like it. this is my first hamilton work, so that's exciting for me! thank you for reading!!
> 
> (i realise now that peggy died before phillip but shhhhhh i like it this way)
> 
> i wanted to put in adrienne, laf's wife, and jefferson's wife, along with hamilton and eliza's other children but it was becoming far too convoluted and Not Good. i was very close to making this go along with the post that inspired it, with hamilton 'dropkicking jefferson into hell' but like nah, i like to think that the two of them could have gotten along away from the political atmosphere. it ended a lot sadder but more hopeful then intended? idk, positive feedback would make my day :)


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